Dragged Into Skyrim Reborn
by Virael Rayne
Summary: When Cassian Reed and his siblings are suddenly – and very literally – dragged into the world of Skyrim, Cassian must use his newfound Dragonborn abilities to battle the oncoming storm. Civil war ravages the land as vampires and other dark forces stalk the night. Will Cassian alone be enough to combat the sinister forces seeking to lay waste to the land of Skyrim?


Dragged into Skyrim by Virael Rayne

When Cassian Reed and his siblings are suddenly – and very literally – dragged into the world of Skyrim, Cassian must use his newfound Dragonborn abilities to battle the oncoming storm. Civil war ravages the land as vampires and other dark forces stalk the night. Will Cassian alone be enough to combat the sinister forces seeking to lay waste to the land of Skyrim?

Prologue: Into the Rabbit Hole

Cassian took a deep breath as he crept out of his hiding spot, taking care not to do anything that might give him away to his quarry. He pulled back on his bow until the string would not give any more while taking careful aim at his target. Loosing the arrow, Lucas pulled another out of the makeshift quiver attached to his back by an oversized belt that had been discarded by his father. He quickly nocked it, preparing for the possibility that his initial projectile would miss. His caution was unnecessary, however, as the arrow hit its mark and dropped his adversary down into the snow. Quickly running over, Cassian saw his younger brother, Ian, nurturing a small bump on his head.

Ian looked up as Cassian approached, a look of anger on his face. "Why do you always have to go for headshots? Those Nerf arrows hurt, you know! It clearly says on the Nerf products to _NOT_ aim for the head or face, anyway!"

Cassian sighed. His younger brother could always find fault in the actions of others but given the chance he would have done the same. "I didn't mean to, little brother. I didn't think that a Nerf product would have much in the way of range. I aimed at your head thinking that it would hit you in the back or side instead." Cassian held his hand out to his younger brother. "Here. At least let me help you up. We can go tell mother and she can yell at me for being a heartless older brother."

Ian thought for a while before shaking his head. "No. It was an accident and its not like she wouldn't yell at me too for agreeing to play this game in the first place…. Besides. You did make one critical error in our little game." Ian took Cassian's hand and stood before continuing with a large, malevolent grin on his face. "I have a twin sister."

The realization of his error hit Cassian like a snowball to the back of his head. Or, rather…. Both hit him at the same time. He staggered a bit before face down in the snow. Turning over, he brushed the snow from his eyes and was greeted by a laughing girl in a light-pink snow jacket. "Damn. You got me." Cassian picked himself up off the ground, dusting the cold snow off before continuing to speak. "Looks like Cassandra wins this time. Let's go inside now before Mom yells at us about catching a cold."

Cass laughed. "Cassian just wants to nurture his wounded ego. He's mad because he lost twice in a row to me."

"Whatever, little sister. I still have the highest score with twenty-seven wins to your eighteen."

"Well at least I don't have only thirteen points."

"Hey!", exclaimed Ian. "What does my score have to do with your grudge match?" His face was quickly growing red from a combination of rage and cold.

All the siblings could do after that was laugh.

 **-Transition to a small tavern on the outskirts of Riften-**

Dark shadows danced across the walls as rain assailed the roof of the tavern with an unforgiving strength. The sound of thunder echoed throughout the building, a primal force without mercy for the puny denizens of the earth below. The door of the tavern burst open with an audible crack as a man walked in, soaked in water from the torrent outside. The interior was cozy, to put it nicely, with barely enough room for the three tables that had been crammed into it. One would not expect a poor tavern outside of one of the major cities to have more than three or four inhabitants at a single time, so there was no need for what would normally be considered a large amount of room. Any spare room would typically be reserved for overnight guests such as travelling peddlers and wandering adventurers. On this night, however, the tavern was packed as several patrons sought to escape from the storm outside. The tavern was noisy with the voices of various drunkard patrons singing along with a bard playing in the corner. He was drunk as well. A young, excited-looking girl of around sixteen ran up to the new arrival. "Welcome to The Hearth! Can I get you anything? We don't have any more mead, but we do have plenty of wine and food."

The man turned to her, lifting his hood to reveal a man of about twenty-four. "Wine is fine, miss. And if you have any cheese then that as well. Bread too."

Sheogorath noticed a cloaked figure sitting inconspicuously in a corner, seemingly hidden from sight. He walked over and sat down at the table with him.

"You're late." Sheogorath was suddenly painfully aware that Akatosh's eyes were burning holes through him. "Hey!" Sheogorath rushed to put out the fire that was licking at his coat. "This is my favorite suit!"

"This world is on the brink of destruction. The time wound that was created when Alduin was displaced from the time stream is growing larger, and I fear that another dragon break will occur if we are not careful. You daedra may enjoy the ensuing chaos, but you can never understand how painful it is to be broken apart to such an extent. I believe that my first-born's return to the time stream will become the catalyst for this change. The world needs a dragonborn, but there are none on Nirn who I believe to be worthy of this power. There is only one being that I know of that might know of a place where I might find someone that I can bestow my power upon."

"Let me get this straight. You want ME…. The mad god, the defiler of dreams, the _epitome_ of _insanity!_ … To try and talk to that know-it-all? You do realize that he'll spend more time correcting my sentence structure than getting anything done, right?"

"You're the only one that I can trust to do this, Richard. You're just crazy enough to know how important this is."

"You had to call me by my old name, didn't you? Ok. I'll do it, but how am I supposed to get that knowledge hog to help out?"

"Tell him that he can have the dragonborn once everything has been settled."

"Are you sure that's wise, Akatosh? He already possesses your first dragonborn. It might be catastrophic if he gets another."

"I have a feeling that it won't be as big of a problem as you think. Mora isn't as destructive as Bal and Dagon. I believe that he will be content to just have them to study. The worst he might do is try and use them to steal all the books on Nirn. Relatively harmless."

Sheogorath shook his head. "You keep telling yourself that. I know Mora, and he can do far more harm than you know." Sheogorath stood up, turned from Akatosh, and disappeared into the nothingness of the void. The sound of a glass shattering could be heard throughout the tavern as eyes turned to see the wide-eyed daughter of the inn-keeper standing speechless before an empty table.


End file.
